


i've been up for days

by OrdinaryVegan



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, and the kids are just fine, it had to be done, luther's GONE y'all, twinyards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 16:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13080387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrdinaryVegan/pseuds/OrdinaryVegan
Summary: Andrew looks to his left. Neil is the only one besides himself who has yet to move. He is already looking at Andrew. Predictable.Andrew raises an eyebrow at his inspection. Neil stares back a moment more, trying to read Andrew’s thoughts while revealing nothing himself. Slowly, Neil’s carefully blank expression fades away and is replaced by a satisfied set to his mouth and a rather wicked gleam in his eye.Luther Hemmick is dead.





	i've been up for days

**Author's Note:**

> i celebrated finishing final exams by killing luther hemmick :) CHEERS, Y'ALL

The entire locker room is silent as a dozen pairs of eyes flit back and forth, trying to decide on an appropriate reaction. Andrew, however, does not remove his gaze from the floor, where he can see Neil’s foot tapping at an unprecedented rate from the corner of his eye. A nervous tell. 

Wymack clears his throat, regaining his composure light-years ahead of anyone else in the room. His arms are crossed, flames stretching across muscle. He lifts his head to face Nicky, who still has one hand braced against the door jamb for support. 

“Do you—” Wymack begins, then stops. Forcibly keeps his gaze from straying to Andrew. Clears his throat again. “What do you need, Nicky?” 

Every head turns to Nicky now, glad to have a direction back to the safety of clear social cues. Andrew will never understand that impulse. He is perfectly willing to ignore all of them. 

Nicky takes a deep breath and pushes a hand roughly through his hair. Exhales. He is the first to give in and glance quickly at Andrew before his eyes settle back on Wymack. 

“I don’t,” Nicky starts, voice at a fraction of its usual volume. “I’m just, uh. I’m going to talk to Bee. I’ll come in early to make up for missing practice. If that’s okay...” he trails off. 

Andrew doesn’t miss Kevin’s quiet huff of indignation, but no one else pays him any mind. Andrew never does, and he sure isn’t about to start now. 

“Right,” Wymack says, one hand coming up to scratch distractedly at his five o’clock shadow. “Right, go ahead. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Nicky nods in response with a little too much force. He pushes away from the door, adjusts the gym bag on his shoulder, and spares one last look for Andrew before turning on his heel and disappearing into the hallway. 

The silence reigns until the stadium doors audibly open and close. The Foxes all let out the collective breath they have apparently been holding. Andrew refrains from rolling his eyes, but it is a near thing. 

“Alright,” Wymack claps his hands sharply to get everyone’s attention. The freshmen visibly startle, and this time, Andrew’s eyes roll of their own accord. He really has no choice in the matter. 

“Suit up,” Wymack continues, his voice leaving no room for discussion. “I’m not paying you to stand around and suck the oxygen out of my air.”

“You aren’t paying us at all,” says Allison from where she’s perched on the arm of the couch, examining her fingernails. This must break the spell, because everyone suddenly moves into action. The sound of lockers being opened and gym bags being unzipped practically vibrates the walls. 

“And I’m sure that absolutely devastates your financial status, Reynolds.” Wymack turns, making his way into his office. “My heart,” he calls over his shoulder, “it weeps for you.” The door slams shut. 

Andrew looks to his left. Neil is the only one besides himself who has yet to move. He is already looking at Andrew. Predictable. 

Andrew raises an eyebrow at his inspection. Neil stares back a moment more, trying to read Andrew’s thoughts while revealing nothing himself. Slowly, Neil’s carefully blank expression fades away and is replaced by a satisfied set to his mouth and a rather wicked gleam in his eye. 

Luther Hemmick is dead. 

 

—

 

Neil watches as the ashes fall from Andrew’s cigarette and are immediately swept away by the wind. Neither of them have said a word in the nearly two hours they’ve been on the roof. Now, the silence seems to reign louder every minute as Neil tries to come up with a way to break it. 

Andrew reaches for the whiskey bottle that sits between them. He takes a swig before passing it to Neil, who does the same. Neil sets the bottle off to the side and turns to his left to face Andrew fully. He’s been hesitant to bring up today’s events, but it’s hard for him to focus on anything else.

Neil knows that Andrew doesn’t really care; he has never been one to give thought to revenge when he himself was the victim. He would consider it a mere waste of energy, time that could be spent on something that actually matters. 

But Neil?

Neil hasn’t felt this much satisfaction since Drake stopped breathing, since two bullets ripped through Nathan Wesninski’s chest, since the Lord put down the King. 

The world is suddenly a little brighter. 

Andrew is looking at him like he knows Neil’s exact train of thought. Which he probably does. Neil opens his mouth to speak, but he is interrupted by the sound of the roof door scraping across concrete. 

Neil and Andrew turn at the same time to see Aaron standing in the doorway. He looks uncomfortable, nervous, even. Like he doesn’t know how he will be received. Neil looks to Andrew, wondering the same thing. 

Andrew stares at his brother for several moments, cigarette between his lips and eyebrow raised in question. When Neil looks back to Aaron, he sees him removing his backpack, unzipping it, and revealing two identical bottles of vodka. Neil is fairly certain he saw them in Kevin’s stash earlier this week. 

Andrew glances at Neil before shrugging and turning back around, away from his brother and his offering. Aaron takes this as the acceptance it is and moves toward the edge of the roof, taking a seat on Andrew’s available left side. He slowly looks over the edge, taking in the drop and most likely cataloguing every bone that would break if he were to fall. He shakes his head minutely, as if to push the thoughts away. 

Andrew rolls his eyes. Removes the cigarette from his mouth with one hand and holds out the other. Aaron wastes no time in passing over the alcohol, aware that his presence here is likely contingent upon it. 

As he watches them, Neil notes how they move in different ways that make it so clear who is who. Andrew is confident, strong, doesn’t move until he knows exactly how he’ll do so. Aaron is less so, fidgety and questioning at every turn, especially where Andrew is concerned. Neil will never understand how anyone can possibly confuse the two. 

Looking out over campus, Neil thinks about Aaron. About how his uncle is dead, a man he grew up with. A man who taught him to judge and to hate and to hurt. About how he fights to overcome this. About how Nicky is not here right now, but he’s not in Columbia, either. Their bridge to Luther had been burned. Incinerated and turned to ash. There will be no mourning the dead. 

Smoke rises into the air, and Neil looks over to see that the hand holding Andrew’s cigarette is resting between them. He places his own hand beside Andrew’s and locks their pinkies together, receiving nothing in return but the slight tilt of a head and a barely-there smirk. It’s enough. 

Neil glances up at Aaron to see him staring at Andrew, while Andrew stares straight ahead. He wonders if Aaron’s thoughts are in the same place as his own. If he’s recalling everything that led them to this point. If he too is satisfied that there is one less evil in this world that is host to far too many. 

Picking up the earlier abandoned bottle of whiskey, Neil turns to face the twins, his gaze on Aaron. He slowly raises the bottle into the air in a silent toast. Aaron stares for a moment in quiet shock before mirroring him, the movement quick and absolute. They drink. 

Andrew’s pinkie tightens around Neil’s. The scent of cigarette smoke fills the air.

The moment passes. They will think of him no more.

**Author's Note:**

> thank ya thank ya for reading! i appreciate u.
> 
> title is from "i hope your whole life sux" by my one and only, Blackbear. check him out if you like to feel things.
> 
> come scream with me on tumblr @pastelanxiete <3


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